


Fridays Child

by PaleoM



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-The Reichenbach Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleoM/pseuds/PaleoM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just found this in my emails from 2012 while looking for some old figures.  It's a brief thought of Sherlock travelling a dark path, looking for the day when he can return and be guided by John's light again.  Slight slash overtones.  Nothing concrete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fridays Child

Fridays child is loving and giving..........

Sherlock didn't know how that piece of information got in there, normally he only kept important stuff in his head. He supposed it was because John was born on a Friday, and John was important, therefore superfluous information was suddenly important if it linked to John.

He was only just beginning to realise how important John was to him, not because he brought him tea, or got the Chinese, or made sure there was enough milk for tea and enough for Sherlock to experiment with, or any number of reasons for which John was useful. John cared about everyone, which was very annoying most of the time, but it meant John cared about him, which was nice and rare and it made Sherlock feel warm and secure when he thought about it.

He didn't put much store in horoscopes or poems, but if Fridays child was loving and giving then John was the epitome of Fridays Child. He gave his time, he gave these cute little grins and these outrageous barks of laughter in strange places if Sherlock caught him unaware with his humour, (Sherlock liked those best and found himself beaming in pleasure if he managed one in front of a dead body). He gave Sherlock his protection, physically and verbally, protecting him against a world that Sherlock had never really understood, had always found strange and painful. John made sense of this world, pointing out the oddities of supposed normal people and putting them into a way Sherlock would understand. Also, John looked at Sherlock with awe, with fondness, with kindness and although Sherlock was never quite sure what to do when John did that, he knew he didn't ever want it to stop.

John made sense of everything and John had quickly become everything. Sherlock had come across loving and giving people before, but they were either too delicate or fragile to deal with Sherlock’s strong personality or there was an underlying need that had nothing to do with Sherlock as a person, either his brain or his money in most cases. John gave everything, purely because he wanted too, because that was fundamentally who John Watson was and yet still strong enough to stand up to Sherlock, he would not be cowed or bullied. John Watson was contrasts and Sherlock loved that, soft and hard, light and dark. John had a light hearted, easy nature that most people saw easily and a dark violent side that was rarely seen, and that was as unforgiving as Sherlock himself.

They were opposites, and yet they were also alike as brothers. It was like Sherlock was John’s dark alter ego and John his light, at least on the surface. John showed a socially acceptable persona to the outside world, Sherlock abhorred such a thing and strove to be anything but acceptable, anything but mundane. They seemed linked only by their matching dark humour and curiosity. But underneath the lightness of John’s personality lurked the darkness that Sherlock connected with, and simultaneously, underneath Sherlock’s sharp, dark exterior there lurked a goodness that John connected with. This allowed for both sides of their personalities to live in harmony, fully accepted by the other.

Together they were the grey areas of black and white. Where neither lightness or darkness consumed either one and their ties to each other kept them from drifting too far into one or the other. They kept each other steady, no matter how stormy the seas. Except now of course, Sherlock was travelling alone and without John to right him, and he could not find the light within himself without John there to guide him. 

Each day seemed to be darker and darker, taking his revenge on the people who had forced his hand, making a bloody path all the way to Moriarty because he could not risk John’s light on this darkest of paths. Such a thing, to search out people knowing you would take their life, hunting a human being for one single dark reason. John was a soldier and to a certain extent he had done that, but he’d done it for the greater good, he wouldn't do it for himself and Sherlock would never ask it of him, not that. This is what Sherlock was for, the darker alter ego, capable of stepping back from human emotions, from human frailties. 

Most of the time he heard his brother's advice, _To feel is not an advantage_ and sometimes he wondered if he’d ever be able to return to John as they once were, or if John would turn away from his bloodied soul, unable to recognise his friend in what Sherlock had needed to become. 

But, then he’d remember, John’s voice sounding in his ears as if he was in the room. _You could Sherlock, you could,_ said with such conviction, said with such loyalty, loving and giving till the very end and he knows he’ll return to John and he will do whatever it takes to earn a place in his life, because everything outside of John’s light is darkness, and he doesn't want to be alone in the darkness any more.


End file.
